Changed
by SnarklestheCat
Summary: An awful torture too soon – an awful experiment gone wrong – an awful result forcibly imposed. But no matter what they called it, I knew the truth – and I knew that this had the power to tear Obi-Wan and I apart . . . forever. Please read and review!


A/N: Please read and review

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><p>Things had changed.<p>

Perhaps I had suspected it from the moment the Padawan had come to our quarters with a solemn face and a request from the Council that I go to them. Perhaps I had guessed it in the somber mood of the Jedi I had passed, even sadder and more resigned than usual. Perhaps I had even begun to feel that plunging feeling in my stomach even as I took my first look at the faces of the Council Masters when I walked in.

But regardless of _when_, things had changed

_Now_, I was more concerned with my own problems. Well . . . not really _mine_.

Or so Obi-Wan continued to insist.

Our arguments went a little like this, each time a different variation, but always with the same foregone conclusion.

I would make an offhand, random comment.

Obi-Wan would get upset and insist I was overextending myself. Or that I shouldn't be there wasting my time. Or that he was old, useless, stupid – the list went on and on and on and on and on and _on_.

I would refute his argument, reminding him that we were married, promised to each other through sickness and health.

He would point out that he wasn't _sick_ per say.

I would get annoyed and say that I was supposed to care for him anyways.

He would go red in the face and mutter that I was becoming everything he had feared I would become for him – his nursemaid.

I would get mad and tell him that the healers were his nursemaids, not me. All I did was bring food, news, and myself to him every day.

He would get equally angry and order me to stay away for my own good.

I would demand how he could possibly judge that.

He would retort that he knew me better than I did, as he _was_ a Jedi after all, and he had seen into my mind more than once.

I would snap back that Jedi weren't foolproof.

He would roll his eyes and call me stubborn.

I would call him stubborn as well, for he kept bringing up the stupid subject.

In the end, he would surrender under my constant barrage of reminder after reminder of why I should continue caring for him, generally with a sigh or a dismissive tone. I knew he'd never ever truly accepted it – and why should he have?

For today I had just realized something.

Of course the argument kept coming up. Of course Obi-Wan felt that way. Of course he would act as he had.

Obi-Wan had proved beyond a doubt that he would care for me regardless of what happened. He had made it clear that if I had found someone else, someone better, he would totally agree to me leaving – he might even _encourage_ me to leave. But I knew him well enough by then to know he'd pine after me forever afterwards, even though he would never ever admit to it.

I had not quite done the same.

I had laughed it off then, of course, but now I was only beginning to realize the power that self-reproach had on Obi-Wan.

He blamed himself for _everything_. Especially when it came to me.

And that's where the problem was.

He was a Jedi. He could defend himself; he had a remarkable reputation; he was an outstanding person, Jedi, diplomat, and any other various role he filled. Including husband.

When angry rebels had stormed into the convention house where all the delegates were and proceeded to capture us and burn down the convention, Obi-Wan had dropped literally everything to run to me, calm the rebels, and ensure that I found my way back to him at once. For weeks afterwards, he had done everything possible to delay my return, and when I did, for months afterwards he had continued to worry for my safety.

I hadn't responded too nicely at the time.

Now I was wondering if I should have held back my temper.

Obi-Wan was strong, powerful, and talented – but even the best had inner doubts that few could see, much less quell. He had opened up to me about his fears, albeit in a roundabout way, and each time I had returned it with scorn, annoyance, or laughter.

And even worse – I had never confided in _him_.

Oh, sure, he knew that I feared I did not measure up to him. Or that he might stop loving me.

But compared to _his_ fears, those were minor facets in a gem the size of the Core. Perhaps even bigger.

Obi-Wan feared simply failing me.

And that fear invoked a place within Obi-Wan that even I couldn't soothe.

Especially now.

I hesitated for only a moment before the doors before letting the retinal scanner move over my eye, the fingerpad record my fingerprint, and punching in the password. All ways devised in the name of protecting Obi-Wan, of course, but also a way of containing him.

The room was dimly lit. Jedi could see fine. Me? Not so much.

"Obi-Wan?" I called.

There was no answer.

I sighed, shut the door, and marched forward until my shin hit the bed. Wincing, I rubbed at it. _Well . . . they said shins are the device for finding furniture in the dark. Now I've proved it._

"Obi-Wan, I know you're awake."

This time there was a sigh – well, more like a whisper of sigh. And the shift of cloth against cloth.

_Obi-Wan._

The lights flickered on suddenly.

_Show-off._

Obi-Wan rested on the bed, his expression tired and wan, his pupils shrinking as they readjusted to the light, making his blue-green irises appear even bigger than normal. But that in no way compared to the solid amount of fat that now padded his bulging stomach as if he was grossly pregnant with decaplets.

The experiment/torture had expanded Obi-Wan's fat cells, causing them to swell. It had also caused his body to produce even more excess fat than usual, so much so that even his normal regime of exercise had not been enough.

Not that he really even could exercise now, with over 2000 extra pounds of fat swelling his entire body into proportions that made it terribly unsafe for be to me near him.

"Hi," I said quietly, plopping in the chair by his side.

He smiled forcibly at me; it was clear he did not welcome my arrival, which made me sad. And determined.

But also nervous.

I found myself prattling about useless stuff for some time, even so much so that Mr. Diplomat was only pretending to listen. But it wasn't until he shifted uncomfortably and nearly yawned that I snapped out of it.

"Sorry," I apologized. "I was nervous."

He surveyed me curiously. "What is wrong?" he asked gently.

I fiddled with my fingers. "I just realized something last night. Something I'd never thought of."

"Which is?" he prodded good-naturedly.

"I've never proved myself to you."

His eyebrow rose at once, and he laughed. "There isn't yet a way in which you have _not_," he said, amusement and affection mixing in his tone. "And I would know."

I snorted. "There's one way _your_ mind would never have thought of."

"Oh?"

"Obviously."

He eyed me almost nervously. "Which is?"

I shrugged. "You tell me, most-powerful-Jedi-Master."

He sighed. "I cannot read your mind. I've told you this over and over again. . . You need not fear to test your thoughts against me. I won't invade your personal security like that."

"Not that way!"

"Then how?"

I groaned and stood up. "You know what, never mind."

Before he could ask, I swiftly placed a foot on the chair and rolled on to his stomach to face him calmly. As I'd thought, it caused him no discomfort; the fat was more than enough cushioning between us.

I could tell that the only thing that prevented him from moving after that was the fear of hurting me.

It did not stop him, on the other hand, from yelling.

"Are you _insane_?" he thundered. "Do you _want_ me to be arrested, put on trial, be a spectacle?"

"No. Now go to sleep. I'm tired."

He continued to rant angrily for the next few minutes until finally I deliberately unfastened my cloak and pulled it over my head.

"Obi-Wan," I interrupted. "I said, _go to sleep._"

He grunted.

Softly, I murmured, "I trust you. Can't you trust that?"

He didn't respond. But then I felt his hand come to rest against my back, a gentle pressure that reminded me of the days before this experiment had occurred. The sound of his heart, beating so strongly under my ear, combined with just the simple and comforting fact of his presence, quickly lulled me to sleep.

So I closed my eyes and slept.

* * *

><p>When I woke again, I was completely disoriented.<p>

I was on a soft mattress, dressed in a normal nightgown, and had my blankets tucked around me. Obi-Wan was nowhere near me.

_What the. . . _

I lifted my head. "Obi-Wan?"

Then I jumped when a cold breeze hit my skin as the blankets suddenly lifted. But then a warm body slid next to mine, and strong arms pulled me towards it. I resisted a little, fighting the temptation to let go and curl into the person's chest as I had always done with Obi-Wan.

Fingers touched my cheek. "Calm yourself."

My heart leaped.

"Obi-Wan!"

I threw my arms around him – well, as much as I could – and nearly slammed into him when I added my momentum to his own.

He laughed, rolling slightly so that I didn't knock us both out of the bed. But he kept his arms around me, so that we were not separated, and I let myself, for a moment, lose my dignity and bury my face in his chest – which I then realized, to my chagrin – was bare.

"Exuberance is not a quality I remember you being fond of," he murmured.

"Hush," I said, my voice muffled by his skin. "How did – How did you – Why – "

He stroked my hair. "They found a cure," he answered simply. "It was relatively simple, actually – but then again, at least it worked. And then I carried you back here before I went to take a bath."

I lifted my head, perplexed.

He frowned indignantly. "I may be a man, but I still value cleanliness," he said stiffly.

I laughed at him for that, and after a bit he laughed too. It was obvious how relieved he was that he was rid of the overload of fat and was free to hold me as he always did.

I was relieved too. . . It was nice to be able to hold him, and be held by him.

"Welcome back," I told him.

He kissed me in response, letting his kisses caress my face as they traveled to display the passion he rarely allowed to break the surface, even when we were alone. I laughed and pushed him away.

"No, let me sleep," I said, laughing.

Obi-Wan smiled mischievously at me, making my heart flutter. "I can think of . . . Ah, never mind. Let's sleep."

I groaned. Now he was tempting me. Again.

Oh well.

I curled into his side, relishing the feeling when his arms settled around me. It was the safe, comforting, you-are-home feeling that made me feel complete with him.

"That was dangerous," he murmured suddenly.

"What?" I asked sleepily.

"You know what."

I shook myself to full awareness. "I had to do it."

"_Why_? What if you had gotten hurt? What if _I_ had hurt you?" His voice was desperate – not angry, but in a curious, hurt way. He wanted to know.

I sighed and turned my head to meet his gaze. "You're still with that complex, are you?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

I put my hand over his heart. "Obi-Wan, you don't understand. All the time we've been together, it's always been you proving yourself to me. You've shown more than enough trust in me, but . . . I haven't really done the same. I mean – "

"You married me."

"That's not really a leap of faith, Obi-Wan," I said dryly.

He shifted.

"Okay, maybe it was for _you_ – but not really for me. I knew I loved you, and that was the end of it. Marrying you just made things . . . right, I guess. But even now – even now you doubt the trust I have in you. You still think I shouldn't."

"For good reason," he cut in. "I could kill you. Right now."

I yelped when the arm that had gently lay across my waist tightened, becoming an iron band that bound to him. Fingers circled my throat – not tightly, but uncomfortably. His eyes were hard. I had no doubt he could easily snap my neck if he had to.

He flinched when I yelped, and I was released instantly. He had made his point, and he didn't dare to so much as bruise me.

"See?" he said in a tortured tone. "One mistake, and I could kill you."

"But you didn't."

"This time."

"Ugh!"

I threw my hands up and rolled away from him, fuming. Of all the ways to end this conversation! I fumed there, curled into a tight and defensive ball, angry as I'd ever been with him.

He sensed it. I could feel him withdraw slightly. Then he rested behind me, not touching me. He was waiting until I accepted him, until I calmed down. He would not push me. He loved me too much for that.

Finally, I sighed and let the tension drain out of my shoulders.

Obi-Wan placed his arm hesitantly around me, testing the waters. I let him, and I let myself curve slightly until my back touched his chest, letting him know I wasn't angry.

He kissed my cheek and held me closer. "I'm sorry."

That did it.

I pushed myself completely against him, trusting him, letting him see that I trusted him. I wanted him to know how much I –

Obi-Wan hissed and vanished.

I blinked and sat up. "Obi-Wan? What – What happened?"

He was perched on the edge of the bed, his fingers tight on the edge. He was forcing himself to breathe, slowly and carefully, as though he was in pain. A wordless groan escaped his lips, and his fingers tightened even more.

And then it was over.

He relaxed and turned back to me, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry," he offered.

I frowned. "What happened?"

His smile remained, but his eyes didn't reflect it. "Just . . . Just a side reaction to the medication, that's all," he said dismissively. "Enough. Let's sleep. I think you've had enough of the philosophical discussions, haven't you?"

"You're lying." I mean, I hadn't been with him for so long for nothing.

He groaned. "Don't push it. Please."

"If it's a side effect to the medication, the healers should know," I insisted. "I won't leave you in pain, Obi-Wan."

"I'm not in pain."

He lay back down, ignoring my interrogation. Finally, I gave up and settled beside him, going over the confrontation in my head. . . Something had happened to cause him to draw away so suddenly like that and I wanted to know . . .

_Oh._

A vague sensation of something brushed into my mind.

Heat flooded my cheeks. Somehow, my movement had caused something to change in Obi-Wan, and he had felt pleasure.

That left me confused. Obi-Wan always kept a tight lid on his emotions; he had never shown any physical desire to sleep with me. In fact, he had downright refused to on our wedding night, overriding my protests and refusing to budge even the slightest. We only slept in the same bed because it was habit, not because he had consented.

Obi-Wan shifted. "What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

He must have been listening to my emotions.

"Nothing."

"Now who's lying?"

"It's just . . ." I turned myself to face him, but also to ensure that enough of my torso was placed on his that he couldn't squirm away as he had last time. "You were aroused."

He stiffened. Then he sighed. "My . . . captors . . . were not shy of taking advantage of placing me in a Sith torture mask," he explained soberly. "I'm afraid my control . . . is not quite . . . what it used to me. If you wish to sleep elsewhere tonight, I'll understand."

"What? Why?"

His eyes were full of self-reproach. "I should not have lost control like that."

I snorted. "I've been arguing for it since forever!"

"No. I will not risk you like that. I will not let myself hurt you."

"So you're saying that to sleeping with me is to hurt me? Well, how are we supposed to have kids then? Adopt?"

"You're confusing the point."

"No, I'm saying it's just totally ridiculous!" I lowered my voice. "Look, Obi-Wan – you won't hurt me. Ever. I can see that even just seeing me get hurt causes you more pain than anything else. I trust you."

"This discussion is closed. _Now_," he added firmly.

I sighed and let my hand slip into his pants. He hissed again, but instead of squirming away, I could feel his back arch ever so slightly as his eyes slammed shut. He was trying to block me out.

"It's _not_ closed. Apparently you don't understand the meaning of me trusting you."

He shuddered when I let my other hand caress his chest.

"So I guess it's time to follow the saying."

* * *

><p>"What saying?"<p>

I looked up, disoriented. "What?"

"What saying were you talking about?" he repeated patiently.

"Oh. That. 'Actions speak louder than words'," I reiterated. "It's what we were all taught when I was younger."

"Hmm. I think you proved it a bit more than necessary."

"Well, you didn't believe me the first time!"

"Point. . ." He chuckled. "And while part of me wants to yell at you for risking yourself . . . I have to admit, the other part is quite ready to thank you until you get so annoyed that you kick me out of your bed."

I smiled and snuggled closer. "Good. But I don't think I'll ever do that, so no point in bringing it up."

"For now."

"Why do you say that? If you still say that I shouldn't trust you. . ."

"Ah, no. Not that."

"Then what."

In one fluid movement, he flipped us. I was taken completely off guard when the warm chest I had been resting on vanished and I found myself slammed into the mattress, and then further winded when he landed on top. Then irritation set in when I realized that he had somehow managed to trap my hands above my head.

Obi-Wan smirked at me. And waited.

Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. "Just do something already!"

He laughed, and released me. "Just checking."

"For what?"

He grew serious again as he laid himself carefully by my side. "To see if you really meant it," he answered softly.

I tilted my head. "You don't believe me?"

"Not really."

I tackled him. "Oh, you'll pay for that!"

Obi-Wan started laughing at my pitiful attempts at wrestling with him – well, that is, until I got my hand beneath his waist again. Then, he started begging.

7


End file.
